Santharian Development

Santharian World Development => The Santharian Library => Topic started by: Drogo on 19 April 2004, 17:22:00



Title: Darkness Descends
Post by: Drogo on 19 April 2004, 17:22:00
::Allright guys I'd love some feedback on this.  I decided to write a story that takes place during the fall of the Mynian kingdom.  I figure it would be a three part thing with "Darkness Descends" being the first part.  So far I just have the Prologue and first chapter done.  For those of you who already read the prologue just skip down to chapter one.  I appreciate the comments.  It will have politics, religious confrontation, etc.  Though it doesn't all come out in the first chapter of course ;)       :


PROLOGUE

he sun has but recently reached its zenith and hovers above the earth like a burnished disk of gold shining good fortune and health upon all that toils beneath it. The rays of sunlight fall upon a verdant field filled with the lush growth of a new spring and the promise of a new year. The field is deserted, save for one man standing upon it. He stretches his arms upward, and his back outward flexing muscles that are pleasantly tight. The warmth of the sun fills him as his arms come up to complete the stretch he has started. Life fills his eyes as one refreshed from a long slumber and he gazes about him, enjoying all that can be seen. Upon hearing the birds sing their daily song the man breaks into an easy smile and he begins to take a step towards the birds and their sweet songs.

His foot falls back to the soft earth and he moves slightly forward with his step, blinking as he moves. After but a moment his eyes open again, there before him has appeared a new sight where there was nothing but grass. A stronghold tall and fair has arisen before him. The grass rises only to be met by the foundation of this immense place. Stones, the size of a man, are mortared together to form the foundation of an insurmountable bastion. They sparkle clean and white as if newly chiseled. Of carved wood and cleverly filigreed iron is the gate made of, wide enough to fit twenty men abreast. Following the ironwork upward along the gate, the man’s eyes continue up higher. There they stare in awe at the elegant towers and bright, snapping pennants, pure amazement fills the man to see something that is made of cold rocks and dead wood to be turned into something of such rare seemingly living beauty. Then he spies the mighty battlements of the fortress and beholds twenty upon twenty hosts of men standing in force. Bright are the helms upon their heads, new burnished are their strong spears, and proud are their visages.

While the man admires that which is before him, a part of him notices that the birds sing no more, in fact there are no noises to be heard at all. Curiosity overtakes him and he turns around, he is taken aback by what he sees. Men, women, and children are before him, in the hundreds. The lines of them stretch back to the horizon. Strong, hardy people they appear one and all. Simple clothes they wear and simple, yet honest do their faces appear. Fair skin or tan, dark hair or shining, light eyes or shadowed, each is as different from another as can be, yet a strength and resemblance emanates from them in such a powerful wave that the man can not help but take a step towards them to join their ranks.

With his step comes yet another change, those he was coming forward to embrace as brethren no longer appear as they did but a moment ago. The inherent strength in their faces has been leached out as if stolen by the grave. The men now have pained despair painted upon their faces, the women have become haggard and withdrawn, and the once inviting smiles upon the children’s faces are turned to expressions of fear as they clutch their mothers' skirts. The now wretched hosts open their mouths as if to raise a great shout, but not a sound comes out. Fear replaces all other expressions and many a hand rises up to point back the way the man had been facing.

Following the direction of their hands the man turns once more only to see that the great hosts of gleaming soldiers have raised great bows of wood, arrows of light are fitted to the bows ready to be shot. The man opens his mouth to shout, but once more not a sound is heard, he then raises his arms, waving them wildly to gain the soldiers attention. He takes a step forward to try to reach the gates before the arrows can be loosed. But, with his step the mass of men draw back their bows as one and loose their shafts out past the walls they stand upon. The very sky shimmers with the light from the arrows that were loosed.

Seeing the arrows take flight, the man stops in his tracks, riveted by the sight of seemingly a thousand suns crossing the sky. He squints against the glare as he follows their flight through the air. They fall with unerring accuracy, each one striking true. The man’s hands go up to cover his eyes from the horror he now sees. Blood pools upon the ground forming a lake of death. Man, woman, child - it did not matter to the arrows, all were laid down in death. The limp forms of brave men lie pin cushioned above the bodies of their loved ones, brave deeds were all to no avail for those bright tips found even those who sheltered behind them. Few are those that still stand, silent tears fall down their stricken faces. The lips of the wounded twitch and tremble, as they were work into grimaces and noiseless shrieks of pain.

Bright tears fall from the man’s eyes to see so many indiscriminately killed. He leaps forward to aid those he can, his heart going out to them even as it is ripped asunder by that which he sees. Before his eyes the shimmering spirits of the dead and dying quickly flee, as if they can no longer take their host's pain any longer. With his step forward as with every other, the scene shifts yet once again. No longer is the field filled with the wounded, now, only long dead corpses remain with naught an ounce of flesh left upon them.  The endless fields are barren and hold only dust.  All that was alive is gone, only the now cold stone remains.

Tears now blind him as the man continues running forward; with each step another image is presented to him. Images to make the soul wail, they are filled with nothing but fire, death, and destruction; one leading to another, a vicious cycle that he cannot escape from. Finally when his legs can no longer hold him he collapses weeping to the ground, his tears falling upon the scorched earth. After some time he slowly raises his head up, afraid of what he might see, but needing to nonetheless. No more is  the verdant plain or the strong fortress. Burnt bones litter blackened earth, riven are the once strong gate and ruined are the once proud walls. Naught is left of the shining host nor of the slaughtered people, a feeling of emptiness permeates the land. The man knows that nothing now lives in the blighted land.

He pulls himself forward but a few inches, his exhausted body not able to give any more. Darkness encloses all of the land and all is blotted from the man’s vision. Finally, after an eternity of dead silence, a harsh sound comes through the darkness. It is the laugh of a broken man. Whispered, cracked words follow the laughter, “So, he who created all that is has died, and with his death so do we all die.” Once more harsh laughter is heard, and the man chokes on the laughter. For it, like the words, are his own.

Lighting rips through the sky and thunder cracks apart the heavens, causing the man to violently awake. His arms naturally come in front of him in a protective gesture. After a moment he puts down his hands realizing that he is not to be attacked. He pushes himself to his feet and stares at the myriad pinpricks of light that meet his eyes. “May The Creator protect me”, he whispers in chattering breaths. He wraps his arms tightly about him to ward off the chill of the pre-dawn darkness. “What does it all mean, what am I to see from this?”





Chapter 1

A small puff of dust rises from the ground, snaking upwards as it climbs that which disturbed it.  The dust twists along a knobby, rough-hewn walking stick, slowly thinning as it floats ever upward.  It pauses in it’s ascent, until a gentle breeze continues to lift the now spreading motes of dust.  The breeze causes the vapor to caress the hand which holds the staff, strong, calloused hands they are.  Flowing upward, ever following this line of weather worn skin, it ascends an arm clothed in but simple bleached wool.  Finally, the last of the motes disappear in front of thoughtful gray eyes framed by the lines of one much in the sun.  The eyes are focused upon the ground that birthed the errant dust cloud; picking out the barely discernable path that has become all but lost in the shaggy undergrowth.  Following the bits and pieces of the trail that peek out from under the brush and tangled roots of trees that surround him, he spies out the conclusion of his journey.  Down the hill upon which he stands are several worn wooden houses that cluster atop a rise of land that lies hard against the sea, with naught but a few tumbled rocks between the village and the ever hungry water.
        “So, this is where I am to stay this coming month”, muses the man.  Fingers tighten upon the staff as it is raised off the ground, and the man calls in proclamation, “May the Creator grant me respite from this constant journey.  May The Creator grant me his wisdom so I may know his desires.  May The Creator grant me his strength so I may follow this path he has put me on.”  With the last words of the ritualistic prayer finished, he lowers his staff with a thump, adjusts the cloth strap of his pack, and begins forwards once more.
        With each step the man draws nearer the small village, and as he does so more details of his new home show themselves.  Two women wearing simple dresses, one in pale yellow, the other in gray, stand in front a tattered net, their fingers working deftly to mend the holes that have rendered it useless.  Quick smiles and conversation are shared as they go about their work.  A sharp gust of wind pulls the netting away from the hands of the younger woman in gray, causing her to fumble after it.  The elder laughs as the woman struggles to put it back into its place, so the work can be finished.  After finally getting the net secured, she gives the woman in yellow a reproachful look.  But, with a few words the older woman has the younger laughing with her.
        The man smiles to himself as he sees the friendly banter between the two women.  “This bodes well for my stay here”, he muses.
A nearby wooden table with slots between the boards is weighted down by a pile of cleaned fish.  A woman with her hair gathered into a long braid kneels beside the table, feeding a pile of green kindling into the slow burning fire underneath the table.  Wisps of smoke drift from the smoking fish, setting the man’s mouth to water.  A young boy in the midst of the houses rolls a wooden wheel nearly the size that he is.  He puts forth all his strength to push it, and laughs as it rolls again.  As it slows down it stops rolling and promptly falls over to the delight of the child.  With great zeal the boy runs over t the wheel and continues his game.
        All of this the man sees as he comes down the hill towards the settlement.  Soon, he has come close enough to pick up stray pieces of the women’s conversation when he is hailed from a doorway, “Hello stranger.”  This welcome causes the three women to turn from their tasks to look at the newcomer.  The boy stands holding his wheel as he watches the man come closer.
A striking woman steps out the doorway of a modest sized house.  Her auburn hair ripples in the gentle breeze and her smile is wide and inviting.  “It has been a time since anyone has come this way.  I am Mayes and my husband Wil is the headman of this place.  What news have you of the world outside our little village?”  As she says the last words she raises a slimly muscled, pale arm, gesturing to the worn structures about her with an easy smile upon her lips.
        “Well met Mayes. I am Dael and I would gladly share all that I have seen in my travels.”  He fingers his pack and lifts his staff slightly.  “Though I find it is usually more easily done when I am not burdened by all of my gear.”
        “Of course, where are my manners?  Wil would think me uncivilized for not offering you a cold drink and a place to relax.  Please come inside.”
        She ushers him into the doorway and makes a shooing motion towards the people still standing about and the few that have gathered as she and Dael talked.  “Off with you now, you’ll all have time to gawk at the stranger later.”  She turns to Dael who is now in the front room of the house, “Don’t mind them, it’s like I said, we don’t get much in the way of travelers in these parts.  Now let me take your cloak and staff and the like.  Don’t want you to think you’re still on the road when you’re in a right proper home.”
        Dael has a somewhat bemused look on his face as the woman spins about like an auburn tornado.  In but just a moment it seems she has hung his cloak, put his staff by the door, lain his pack next to his staff and has already been to the kitchen and back.  As she slows down she offers him a wooden cup filled with golden mead.  He knows he is indeed honored, for this would be a rare treat for any of the people in the village.  He fingers the smooth, simple lines carved upon the wooden vessel.  After a brief smile he raises the cup to his lips and takes a deep draught.  The cool, sweet liquid hits his tongue and washes his with an easy fire.  Looking at the mead with an analyzing eye he looks back up and says, “Truly this is quite good.  It is seldom that I have had any better throughout the whole of the kingdom.  Thank you headmistress, you are far too kind.”  His compliments bring a subtle blush to her cheeks.
        “No need to be getting fancy, I’m a headwoman.  We’re simple folks here.”  Yet, she still beams at him as she says this.
        While taking another small sip of the heady brew he takes a quick glance about him.  The house was a small one for the village head to live in, but it was clean and well kept.  The walls were whitewashed, and fairly recently if the purity of the white was any indication.  He assumed that they were the common brick and mud construction that was found throughout the villages in the kingdom.  The floor was the good solid earth beneath him; it was well packed and was swept regularly to keep it that way.  The room that he sat in now was obviously the main room as it had several wooden chairs strewn about and a large fireplace against the wall, a few small rugs were strewn about as well, more for color then for anything else.  Looking in the fireplace he found that it allowed him to see a little bit into what he could see was the kitchen.  An iron pot hung by a hook over the fire, mostly obscuring the little he could see.  He caught a glimpse of a table, chairs and some counters.  Off to his right he was able to peer into the other room through an open doorway.  The goodly sized wooden bed made its use rather apparent.  It was piled thickly with multi-colored blankets and quilts of all kinds.  A small, intricately carved chest sat at the end of the bed, secured with strong hinges and straps of iron.
        “This is a lovely home here, and I thank you again for such a hospitable welcome.  It is quite some time since I was last greeted with such honest enthusiasm.”
        “Well don’t start thinking too much about it now”, she says with a twinkle in her eye.  “It isn’t everyday that we hear any news.”
        “Oh, so it is not me that you are interested in, but rather the things I might tell you”, he jests in return.  “I suppose it is the very least I could do for courtesies as I have been given.”  Dael notices the headwoman blush slightly again, he knows it must not be common for her to be addressed in such a way.  “Let me see, where should I begin?  There is so much, do you wish to hear of the wild frontier lands, the grape laden hills of Luquador, or the grace of the court?  Just tell me where to start Mayes, and I shall tell you all that I have heard.  Though,” he says with a twinkle in his eyes, “I will not tell you all that I know as I would go hoarse first.”
        At the mention of all of these places found throughout the varying lands within the kingdom, Mayes eyes brighten and go wide.  “You have been to all of those places?  What are you a story teller?”
        “No, I am not, though at times I feel as if I am,” he laughs.  “Rather, I am a priest of the order of Urik.  So, as you know I wander about from city to town, to village trying to find the place that the Creator wants me to be, and then that is where I shall finally stay and do the work that he asks of me.”
        “Oh, that’s wonderful.  I am sure we will just be a stop in your way as we are small and have no temple or priests.  I know that your time here will be pleasant though.”  Her radiant smile and firm nod underscore her kind words.  “I know that it is selfish of me to keep you and ask after the world, especially when I should ask the whole village to come by so they can all enjoy your news.  But”, she looks at him with a rueful grin, “I simply can’t help myself.”  She shrugs her shoulders lightly.  “So, I will only ask for one piece of news to satisfy my curiosity before you are introduced around to everyone.”
        “I applaud your thoughtfulness towards your fellow neighbors and my weariness from my journey.  Only one piece hmmm, well then it better be good,” he says with a wink.  “I will tell you then of the court and of prince Surian’s fifteenth naming day that occurred but three months ago.  Does that sound interesting?”  Seeing Mayes, eager nod he continues.  “I was in the capital city Vermoth for a religious matter, when some of my fellows convinced me to attend the festivities at the palace, though to be honest I do not believe that there was a single place in the city where I would not have been caught up in the celebration.  The people seem to have a true affection for the young prince.”  He gestured to his rather worn clothing, “unsurprisingly they would not let me attend in my usual mode of dress,” he chuckled.  So, there I was finding myself newly outfitted with a fine garment that was as white as lamb’s wool, it was just as soft as well.”
        “I have been to Vermoth several times, mostly to visit the high temple, but I had never seen much of the palace.  We arrived, several of my brethren and I, to find a walkway of gleaming marble.”
        Amazement covers Mayes face at this news.  “Marble outside, on the road?  You can’t be serious, you are just making it more then it was aren’t you.”
        “No, I am being honest; I myself was amazed as well.  That was not even the beginning of it, trust me.  There were twenty soldiers along each side of the road.  Their armor was burnished until it gleamed in the torchlight.  The all had halberds with silver tips with tassels of silk running down from the blades.  Their eyes were cold and their faces hard.  They were a magnificent sight in their splendor.  Some of my elders breezed by as if it were a common occurrence; I was all but dragged along so as to keep pace with my party.  The doors were swung wide open, and oh you should see the intricacies of the carvings upon the wooden panels.  Illustrated stories both fable and religious were a mosaic of our history, and then when I entered I though surely I would go blind.  For everywhere that I looked the luster of gold and the glint of jewels assaulted me.  Never had I imagined such wealth.  It was on everything, the walls, the ceiling, the guests, even in the guest cup I was offered.  I fear I must have gotten my drink all over myself I was paying so little attention to anything besides my surroundings.
        I was immediately swept up into a whirlwind of social pleasantries and introductions, meeting a new face and learning a new name every minute.  Which, I might add, in the confusion of it all, they were all promptly forgotten.  I soon found myself surrounded by strangers all enjoying themselves and pressing me to a seat near them.  I still believe that it is the softest thing I have ever sat on; they must have captured a cloud and sewn it into a cushion.  Do not look at me, I am not jesting.  I can not imagine how it was so soft.  A glass was thrust in my hand, whose contents merrily splashed upon me, much to my dismay, and a plate was quickly set before me.  All manner of meats, vegetables, and fruits lay piled in heaping mounds about the table, and this table was but one of many.  The food there would have fed this small village for a month, no two months.
        During this dream-like night I vividly recall first seeing the king and then his son walk out together.  Shall I tell you of them?”  Seeing the way her eyes widened at the mere mention of seeing the king and the prince he continued.  “The king came out first, and he was the perfect image of a strong king.  His grey eyes seemed depthless with the wisdom of a learned man, his full blonde hair and beard gave him the image of a mature eternity.  His jaw was strong, as all kings need strength to rule, but it was softened with a smile, which is what so amazed me about him.  Unlike so many of the brief faces I saw, he truly seemed to be happy, there was no calculated crook to his lips, no guile in his eyes.  Now that is a king.”  He saw the same admiration that he felt reflected in her own eyes and reveled in the shared comfort they had knowing that there was someone in control who really did care.
        “Next came the young prince, he was every bit the man his father was, and showed promise to be even more.  His blonde hair haloed his head giving him a holy air, but the light in his hazel eyes and the mischievous smile he wore belied the little devil he kept inside.  He was surprisingly well-grown for his age and I saw many a lady seemingly agree to this.  I watched him all throughout the feast.  He interacted with not only his peers, but also his elders.  Never have I seen a boy that age act with such maturity and seem to have such any easy way with all he encountered.  Truly, I see why the whole of the city loves Prince Surian.”
        Mayes gives a silent nod of agreement without even seeming to know of it. Throughout the whole of his story Mayes’ face had been filled with wonderment and she imagined herself there along with Dael.  She saw the grand palace and all of their guests in their finery along with him.  She too saw the king and the prince and felt the same awe he did as well.  The whole of her life she had heard stories of the king and his court, of the noble lancers and their ladies, and of the bustling capital.   “It is good that the Creator has blessed us so, may it always be that way.”  She lets out a quick wistful sigh, “It must be great to travel like that.” A part of her longed to be there and join in it all, but after a moment reality re-asserted itself.  Simple common sense told her that her ever leaving this village was unlikely.  Taking a quick look around her small, comfortable home she felt fine with that knowledge as she was happy with the life she and Wil had with their two children.
After a moment she gives her head a shake and appears to come back to where she sits.  She looks about at her humble yet well kept home and a glimmer of pride enters her eye.  “It may not be a palace and our village may not be a castle, but I wouldn’t give it up for nothing.  Now then let us get you settled.”
        With that Mayes pushes herself up to her feet sprightly and as Dael rises up a bit more stiffly.  She takes his cup and rushes it into the kitchen, she returns just as he begins gathering his belongings.
        “Come, I shall take you to one of the families that have a spare room and more importantly good hearts.”  She opens the door and gives him a wink as she says, “It’s my sister Yurin, and don’t worry Mom raised us up right.  The Creator knows that I’d clobber her one if she didn’t have a good heart”, she laughs lightly.  She closes the door behind them as they emerge into the late afternoon sunlight.  “Right this way.”
        She leads Dael through the village passing whitewashed wooden houses, well-tended gardens and a few wondering looks.  As Dael looks about he finds a peace that he can never seem to find in the cities much to the consternation of his brethren.  He smiles inwardly at the sight of several children playing raucously nearby, and his smile appears on his lips as they stop their play to look at the stranger in their town.  Then decided that he was interesting they fall in line behind the two of them, chattering the whole of the time.  He looks across the village common to see the hard scrabbled rocks and the endless sea.  He sees several small ships, some with sails and some without, all going about their daily business of catching and hauling in fish.  A simple life to reflect the simple truths of the Creator he reflects as he walks along.
        “Well, here we are,” Mayes announces as she gestures to a house that looks as if it is twin to her own.  She rapidly knocks on the door and gives Dael a reassuring smile.  The door opens wide to show a younger version of Maye.  Curious hazel eyes glance over at Dael and the children standing behind them in a small gaggle.  Her gaze turns inquiring as she looks back to Maye, and her lips turn upward in a slight smile.  “Ummm, I see you brought company, are they all coming in?”
        “What,” Maye looks to where Dael is standing behind her, it is only then that he notices the two boys and the little girl behind them.  One boy is pushing the other closer to Dael.  The nearer boy touches Dael’s cloak, giggles, and rushes over to his other friends.  “Shoo, you little rascals get out here.”  She laughs as she motions them away with her hands.  They all run off laughing.  “There, it is just Dael and I if that’s all right.”
        “Of course, come on in.”  She nearly pulls her sister and her guest in to her home.  She mirrors her sister in many ways including the hospitality that she shows Dael.  They talk for some time, with laughter predominating the conversation.  Eventually Maye brings up the hope that Dael can stay at her house.  Yurin quickly assents and both women express their hope to Dael that he will find that this place is where he is meant to be and that he will stay longer then a month.

Dirg'mystrume of the Helvet'ine Kuglim.  
Lord of the North

Edited by: Drogo at: 5/8/04 4:41


Title: Re: Darkness Descends
Post by: Ta`lia of the Seven Jewels on 21 April 2004, 02:21:00
Drogo, why have you to earn your money elsewhere - go and write stories!

A few mistypings, missing y or such - otherwise, what can I say?

The prologue alone is enchaining, and if the amount of different words used (well, I mean an extented vocabulary) is a sign of quality , then you hit the list of the best authors. The amount of  - for me - unknown words and unusual expressions is very high here !

The story itself is good to read and carries you away - and you want to read on! Your comparisons and your descriptions (the king) are marvelous ( a cloud in a seat! lol)

I hope you will finish this story - soon!

Want more!!!!! More!

***Astropic of the day***
"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path   that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking, looking, breathlessly. ~Don Juan"



Title: Re: Darkness Descends
Post by: Drogo on 21 April 2004, 03:35:00
My many thanks for the comments Talia.  I have waited with what is the expression, oh yes "baited breath" since posting this.  I was especially concerned with the dialogue and not to sure if it flowed properly.  Also I have noticed that one of my main problems when I write anything is keeping it all in one tense *sigh*  hopefully I don't mix that one up too much.  

Dirg'mystrume of the Helvet'ine Kuglim.  
Lord of the North



Title: Re: Darkness Descends
Post by: Ta`lia of the Seven Jewels on 21 April 2004, 06:02:00
Well, the tenses may have to be corrected here and then, but I read it for fun and without looking for any minor flaws concerning the English. I'm not the right person for that anyway. Looking through it I now see, that you write in the past tense in the last paragraph where you used present before. But that is something you can easily change.

***Astropic of the day***
"For me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path   that may have heart. There I travel, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length. And there I travel looking, looking, breathlessly. ~Don Juan"

Edited by: Talia Sturmwind  at: 4/20/04 14:04


Title: Re: Darkness Descends
Post by: Bard Judith on 24 April 2004, 18:47:00
Drogo - a man of many talents!

I haven't had a lot of time on the site, especially since I try to READ everything - so I don't always comment - and this is a longer piece.  

However, I did read and enjoy it, and if you'd like some specific editing, I could try to find some time next week for it.  At the moment I'm swamped with responsibilities.

But well-done, an interesting read!  :clap  



Title: Re: Darkness Descends
Post by: Drogo on 25 April 2004, 17:02:00
Thanks for looking it over Judy, I know you're busy.  I've got to do some work on the tenses and what not, and get started on Chapter 2 and all.  So whenever you get around to it that is fine and I appreciate it.

Dirg'mystrume of the Helvet'ine Kuglim.  
Lord of the North



Title: Re: Darkness Descends
Post by: Bard Judith on 25 April 2004, 19:29:00
Drogo:  In the Resources Forum we have a picture that *might* illustrate this paragraph... don't know if the architecture would fit or not, but you might be interested in it even to the extent of changing a few words of description...

   "Tears now blind him as the man continues running forward; with each step another image is presented to him. Images to make the soul wail, they are filled with nothing but fire, death, and destruction; one leading to another, a vicious cycle that he cannot escape from. Finally when his legs can no longer hold him he collapses weeping to the ground, his tears falling upon the scorched earth. After some time he slowly raises his head up, afraid of what he might see, but needing to nonetheless. No more was the verdant plain or the strong fortress. Burnt bones littered blackened earth, riven are the once strong gate and ruined are the once proud walls. Naught is left of the shinning host nor of the slaughtered people, a feeling of emptiness permeates the land. The man knows that nothing now lives in the blighted land...."

It's one of Quellion's, I think, showing a tall fortress with green swirls of devastation turning people into scorched corpses.  Wouldn't it be cool if we had an illustration for your story with just a little bit of adaption?

I'll go look for the number right now....  Yup, it's Heroic Sacrifice, number 7.  Have a look!

Edited by: Bard Judith at: 4/25/04 3:31


Title: Hmmmm
Post by: Drogo on 27 April 2004, 16:06:00
That is definately a possibility, let me see how I would make it work.  But it would definately be nice to have a pic to go with it!  :clap  



Title: Re: Hmmmm
Post by: Artimidor Federkiel on 28 April 2004, 13:51:00
I've read at least the Prologue now, Drogo, already with an eye towards integration... So I took the text and corrected the few things I've found concerning spelling (here and there some problems with the tenses) etc. I've updated the text you posted above with the slightly adjusted version, so that you perhaps can take it directly and work in Judy's picture proposal. If you change some paragraphs, please mark them with a colour, so that I can grab these things and update prepared version for the site.

It looks very promising, Drogo, and as soon as time allows I will continue with Chapter I:)  Already looking forward to it - you really seem to be a talented story-writer as well!


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Title: Re: Hmmmm
Post by: Drogo on 01 May 2004, 10:25:00
Thanks Art.

I did some additions for the picture, they are in red.  I also changed the tense issues in the last paragraph of Chapter 1, which Talia pointed out.  I'm almost half-way done with Chapter 2 yea!

Dirg'mystrume of the Helvet'ine Kuglim.  
Lord of the North



Title: Re: Hmmmm
Post by: Artimidor Federkiel on 01 May 2004, 12:32:00
Okeydokey... Will see if I can get to reading to Chapter I within the next week...

2 things:

a) Can you perhaps provide a short teaser/summary for the whole story, which we usually put up on top of our library pages?
b) Maybe you also have a text which could go directly under the enlarged version of the picture we're going to integrate now...


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Title: Sure
Post by: Drogo on 01 May 2004, 12:44:00
Teaser::  The following Story is about "The People's Rebellion" the first in a tragic chain of events that will rip apart the great Mynian kingdom and leave it broken, and its people disenchanted with all they once knew.  One young man fights against injustice, and another seeks to define it.  They will find their own truths, and it might just destroy them.

Picture:  Interpretation of a dream of Dael Lurusian a high priest of the Hermien Sect of the Mynian Kingdom.

Does that work?

Edited by: Drogo at: 4/30/04 21:50


Title: Re: Sure
Post by: Artimidor Federkiel on 01 May 2004, 13:27:00
One or two more sentences at the teaser would be fine, simply for design reasons at the page. Guess that shouldn't be too difficult, eh?


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Title: Re: Sure
Post by: Drogo on 04 May 2004, 20:01:00
Allright, I added some.  How's that?

Dirg'mystrume of the Helvet'ine Kuglim.  
Lord of the North



Title: Re: Sure
Post by: Artimidor Federkiel on 05 May 2004, 14:53:00
Yup, perfectly fine, Drogo:)  


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Title: Re: Sure
Post by: Drogo on 06 May 2004, 15:11:00
Okay, I've gotten some good comments on the Prolouge, for which I thank you all.

Any comments for Chapter 1?

Dirg'mystrume of the Helvet'ine Kuglim.  
Lord of the North



Title: Re: Sure
Post by: Artimidor Federkiel on 08 May 2004, 00:54:00
I'll read and prepare Chapter 1 as well for the update (hope there's nothing majorly wrong with it, which I don't expect from you, Drogo...;) ). So comments will follow after I've checked it, currently I only miss a chapter title - got one perhaps?


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Title: Re: Sure
Post by: Artimidor Federkiel on 08 May 2004, 03:22:00
Ok, I've just read and prepared Chapter 1, Drogo... I've fixed a few minor things in the final text, like e.g. that the woman is named Mayes for the first half of the chapter and then suddenly turns to Maye in the latter half, so I updated all occurances with Mayes. Here and there I've fixed some typos and took the liberty to add an exclamation mark at some passages when Dael tells his story about the King and the Prince - I guess some excitement is quite in order;)   I also had to change the tenses at the paragraph when Dael examines the house more closely, as you suddenly use past tense here. Well, you've chosen an unusual tense for the story, the present tense, so it's quite easy to overlook such things...

Anyway, aside from such minor details, the story is coming along very well! I see you really have a love for detail and know how to tie in dialogues, background information and make things interesting, so it was a very enjoyable read! Quite a pity that we hadn't discovered much of your story-writing talents until now in Santharia (only at the RPGs), but hey, you're excellent at entry writing as well, so all in all, you're quite a multi-talent, Drogo;)  

Looking forward to another chapter! I'm curious what adventures Dael will encounter...


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Edited by: Artimidor Federkiel at: 5/7/04 12:02


Title: Re: Sure
Post by: Faugar on 08 May 2004, 04:39:00
I just read the prologue too- great stuff Drogo! looks like its going to be an interesting story, and a good read :)  :clap  


       
     
  Only         when you awake, will you know you fell asleep..          
   



Title: Re: Sure
Post by: Artimidor Federkiel on 08 May 2004, 06:53:00
Just a small thing, Drogo: At the end of chapter 1 the sister greets with "Ummm, hi sis!" Well, I'd suggest to perhaps find a special form of greeting (other word, or a gesture), because "hi" sounds not very ideal for a fantasy-world.


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Title: Re: Sure
Post by: Drogo on 08 May 2004, 20:43:00
Okay, I just got rid of the "hi sis" part so now it reads, "Ummm, I see you brought company"  How's that sound?

Dirg'mystrume of the Helvet'ine Kuglim.  
Lord of the North



Title: Re: Sure
Post by: Artimidor Federkiel on 09 May 2004, 23:50:00
It's ok for now, though having special greetings for various cultures still would be a good idea;)

Oh, and I'd still need a final title for Chapter 1, currently I've simply called it "The Visitor". So if you have a better title, please let me know.

@All others: Go, read the story!


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Title: Re: Sure
Post by: Drogo on 10 May 2004, 11:14:00
To be honest I never even thought about giving an individual chapter a title.  So yea, that's a fine title.  I'll think of one for the next chapter.  It should be up this week! :clap

As far as a greeting goes, I agree, however I thought something like that would be less proliferant in a small, tight knit community.  So, you'll actually see it in the next chapter. :nod  

Dirg'mystrume of the Helvet'ine Kuglim.  
Lord of the North